100 days
by kandaluvr
Summary: The countries have lived for a long time; centuries, even a few millennium. But even so, they find that they still don't know everything. And everyday, they learn something new. Whether it be from each other, or even from their people. Even if it's just the small things. It's all important. (marked as complete because they're oneshots but will be updated occasionally ou o)
1. Sunrise

"Kuma look! We're almost to Germany now." Canada said sweetly, showing his bear out the window. The bear nodded once.

"Who are you?" the bear yawned. Canada rolled his eyes and watched back out the window.

The sun was just coming up over Berlin, where he could see the land shining orange in the light. Germany- as in the person- was probably still asleep this early, and Canada suspected that most of the other European nations were as well. Ha! Even his brother right next to him was still asleep. Speaking of which…

"Hey Al… Al, wake up." Canada said, shaking his twin's shoulder and causing him to sit up as if they were under attack.

"Whu- What?!" America asked, looking at his brother. "Oh- are we almost there?" He asked, slipping on his glasses.

"Yeah. Another ten minutes the pilot said." Canada said.

"Okay." America yawned. "Wow! What a sunset!"

"That's a sunrise, America." Canada said with a chuckled. "They're in a different time zone from us, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Well it's purdy either way."

"Your Cowboy's showing."

"Aw, ta heck with it. I'm tired." America said with another yawn.

"Eew- here, have a mint. You have morning breath." Canada said, wrinkling his nose.

**Hiya! This is a new one I'll be working on. :D It WILL Be updated every thursday and I hope to hear what you think! There will be exactly 100 chapters! Hope to see you around!**


	2. Love

China had always mused that there were a lot of different types of love. There was friendship. There was family… a platonic love. There was lust- that some people claimed to be love, but in the end it wasn't anything that measured to love. Then there was true love- he supposed he'd call it. That love that one would die for. That love for one's country, that love that one felt for a large group of people that were related or that one person that you fought for.

He supposed, in the end, he had felt it all. But that love was always so short lived. Or at least in his expanse of life it was. He had fallen in love, he had felt lust, he had raised a family. But it all came to an end at some point and he always ended up alone.

He had lived as long as the great empires, and longer. He had witnessed their increase in strength with that love for their countries. That sort of love they fell in and out of. He had fought and traded and communed with them as friends and enemies. He had seen that love create new life, and new countries. He had seen smaller countries grow and prosper under that love. Or wither away with that lack thereof. He had seen them die in their lust for power. And as always, they had left him alone.

But, he supposed, that was how it always would be. **  
**


	3. Dreams

"America, I have a question."

The young country turned around from where he was sitting at the table of McDonalds, wondering who was asking him a question in his off time.

"Oh, hey Greece. What's up?"

"I was reading this book of yours… well you know… It's from your country." Greece said in his usual sleepy tone, sitting at the table across from the Superpower nation. "And it made me wonder about something."

"Hmm? What would that be dude?" America asked, leaning back in the plastic chair. "And what book was it?"

"The Great Gatsby." Greece said quietly. "I found the idea of this "American Dream" interesting, but I don't quite grasp what it is- or was I guess."

"Hmm… I guess it's a dream of new beginnings… you know? I don't really like calling it the _American dream, _I mean, sure it's cool to have it named after the ideals that formed… well… me. But it's more like humanities dream. As cliché as it is… it's sort of like a wish for the perfect life. Money, power, family, and usually just being happy. Being able to provide I suppose."

"Money…and family." Greece thought aloud, leaning back in his own chair. "That sounds… nice."

"It's been twisted and warped in that book though. I mean- yeah, it's one of the classics, but they twist it to make it look like money is what leads to family, and if you don't get that, life isn't worth living."

"I see. What is it then?" Greece asked, looking at America.

"What is what?"

"The real American dream? Yours.

America looked at the older nation, who looked genuinely interested. Thinking for a minute, he smiled.

"I think it's what we started with- my people I mean. The equality of men. The freedom that people deserve and everyone is provided for. You know? And not just in my country… In everyone's. everywhere. I just wish I could make it happen. That's my dream."

Greece nodded in understanding, looking up at the ceiling. "That's a good dream." He said.

"Yeah- ha! Nothing like a conversation in a fast food joint with Greece to get some philosophical thoughts." He said, giving a winning smile. Greece just smiled back. **  
**


	4. Haunted

"NEIN!"

Roderich sat up instantly as he heard it. That scream. Groggily, he looked about for his glasses and snatched them up from his dresser. Glancing at his clock, he saw that it was three something in the morning. His vision was so blurred that he wasn't sure what the minute mark was, but it didn't really matter.

Eyes still half-closed, he swung his legs out of bed and went to his door. He didn't bother to pull a shirt on, for the time of bother was ridiculous anyway. He used his hand to feel his way down the dark hallways of the German household, and he wasn't even sure where he was going. Of course, Ludwig was out for the week, and it was far too early for him to even have dropped by to pick something up. So the only person left would be that brash idiot, Gilbert.

Despite his lack of care for the man, Roderich decided to go and tell him off for waking him at such an hour. It was simply astounding how the albino could irritate him so, especially given that it was such an early hour, and he usually didn't even have the ability to think at such a time.

Finally, he reached the source of his half-wakefulness and pounded on the door, where Gilbert's voice was still heard from the other side. But shockingly, instead of obnoxious yelling and drunken rants, Gilbert sounded like… he was _crying_.

"Gilbert?" He asked, knocking on the door. "Prussia, what's going on?" But the whimpering didn't cease. Hesitantly, Roderich grasped the handle to the door and pushed it open. "Prussia?"

He met the sight of the albino still asleep, in fact, so asleep that he didn't notice that his covers were all kicked onto the floor and that the freezing air was touching the bare skin of his scarred torso. But he was shivering and whimpering like a wounded pup, afraid and unable to move for fear.

"Gilbert… Gilbert wake up." Roderich said firmly as he approached the pathetic form. "You're going to wake the neighbors." He said, shaking his fellow German's shoulder. He saw Prussia's red eyes flutter open, small tears building in the corners of them.

"Bruder?" He said groggily, subconsciously reaching about for the covers that weren't there any longer.

"No it's me." Austria sighed, reaching down towards his feet for the blankets and offering them to the albino.

"Oh." Gilbert blinked a few times before he pouted. "What do you want?" Austria felt his eye twitch in irritation.

"You woke me up with your crying." He said bluntly, starting towards the door and almost smirking at the look of horror on Prussia's face. But he paused when he saw him look at his wrists, which he had long known had scars on them from various tortures of the past.

"Was it the war?" he asked quietly.

"Depends on which one you're talking about." Prussia said curtly, turning away from him. Austria frowned.

"You know which one I'm talking about."

"Ja."

"I see." Austria frowned, remembering the many horrors of the world war that had but recently ended. He wrapped his fingers around his own wrists where they had been bound as well, the scars wrapped thinly around his wrists the same way those ropes had once…

"Russia?"

"Don't say his un-awesome name around me." Prussia snapped. Roderich raised an eyebrow.

"So it was." He said. "Will… you be alright?" Prussia looked at him with a mixture of annoyance and lingering fear from his dream. Finally he sighed and looked at the floor, interlocking his fingers together.

"Ja… I-if I can survive the real thing, I can make it through a dream." He said. Austria almost smiled at this.

"Ever the tough one." Roderich nodded. "I know how much it hurts to be haunted."

"I guess that's a good word for it."

**This one was kind of spur of the moment fluff. enjoy. :')**


	5. Memory

"Do you remember?" Italy asked, looking at Germany from across the table. "What it was like to be a kid I mean."

Germany frowned, looking out the café's window and watching people scurry by in hurry of the day ahead. He had only come to breakfast with Italy because he was in town for the world meeting in Venice. Everyone- in fact- was here, eating and making small talk with each other. Italy, Romano, America, France, Germany and Prussia were all sitting at the table nearest the window. While they waited for their meal, they talked about this and that, which had somehow lead up to talking about their childhoods.

They had actually learned a lot about each other, and it was rather nice. Alfred didn't remember too much about England, just the important things, but the starter time he had when he migrated to his lands was brutal. Japan spent a lot of his childhood alone. Italy was thrown from home-to-home a lot, and Romano was in the same boat. Many things were learned.

"Ahh, Nein. I mean- no. Not really." Germany said, looking back to his companions at the table. "I mean- I have little flashbacks, but I don't really remember much before I lived with Prussia."

"Really? Dude, that's weird. D'ya think you have short term memory or somthin?" America asked, sipping at the Italian soda that he had ordered right away. "I mean- did somthin' happen for you to forget? Like a head trauma or the like." Germany cringed at the slight southern American drawl that always showed heavily in America's speech in the early morning. It always took him a moment or two extra to figure out what he was saying.

"Not that I remember." Germany shook his head. "I don't know anything."

"Maybe my awesomeness wiped away all your unawesome memories." Prussia laughed, slapping his brother on the shoulder.

"Ja- that must be it." Germany said sarcastically.

He never noticed the strange look in his brother's eyes.


	6. Fragile

"Bul… run. Or… they'll get you too." Romania's usual bubbly and unfathomably happy personality was hidden by dim eyes and weak hands. He looked up at his friend.

"No! No Vlad, you're not going to give up now!" Bulgaria shouted, pressing his hands firmly against the wound in his friend's chest. Tears had built in the corner of his eyes, but he fought them back instantly. "You- you're not that weak." He knew that his friend wouldn't actually die- or at least he wouldn't stay dead- but it still hurt, to watch as his fellow countries _own people _staked him right through the heart.

"Hhaaa-!" Romania breathed a half laugh. "It's okay- I've… been through… worse."

"How could it get worse? Your own people are-!"

"You're with me this time… aren't you?"

Bulgaria felt the tears spill this time. He couldn't fathom what his friend had gone through, just because he looked a bit different. As a country, Bulgaria knew what a country personification went through for their people every day. He couldn't imagine what it would be like for his own people to try to kill him.

"Yes- I'm here. And I'll be here when you wake up."

But his friend's body was already cold.**  
**


	7. Celebration

"Denmark… why are you covering my eyes like this?" Germany sighed, trying not to trip over his own feet as he was lead forwards by the former Viking. "This is truly unnecessary. The blindfold I mean."

"No it's not. It's totally necessary. Now just follow my lead and you'll do fine."

"Why-"

"Just sush!" Denmark scolded. "We're almost there!"

Germany, disgruntled by his neighbor's antics, decided to just go along with it wondering what on earth he could be up to this time. It wasn't the first time that Denmark had come up with something strange or different to do. But blindfolding him was a definite new one.

"Aaand… here we go! Take of the blindfold!" Denmark said enthusiastically. Germany did as told and pulled the cloth off of his eyes. Just as he did, he stumbled back as a loud "SURPRISE!" suddenly exploded around the room.

Almost every country he knew personally was standing around the room, party hats and kazoos adorned them while a giant banner that read "HAPPY BIRTHDAY GERMANY" was hung above their heads.

"Was… ist das?" Germany asked, knowing fully well the answer. A surprise party, but the real question was, why?

"It's a surprise party Germany! Silly, it's your birthday!" North Italy said with a wide grin, indicating around him.

"But-!"

"Oh just let us celebrate something! That's the important part!" Denmark said, slapping a hat onto Germany's well-styled hair and snapping the string under his chin. "It's what neighbors are for- right?!" **  
**


	8. Secrets

"Hey mister Prussia?" A small voice asked, looking up to the said Prussian soldier, blue uniform practically glowing in the sun. The albino looked down at the young blonde, who stood on the platform of the ship headed for the new lands.

"Ja? What is it… Canada?" The man asked, looking down at the little land mass next to him. He looked to be a teenager, around nineteen or so. Not yet a country, but on his way to be.

"My brother… what did you think of him?"

"Hmm? Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering."

Prussia thought for a moment, and looked up at the sky, which threatened to burn his skin deeply for its fairness.

"Well- he's a real ambitious kid… and strong. A little… clueless sometimes. But he's learning real fast." He said, thinking on how he had trained the kid. He had indeed learned fast, but really, he had to. But remembering one of his generals yelling at him for using the bayonet's as a cooking utensil-

"Do you think I'll ever be like that? Strong, and smart?... do I have any potential?" Canada asked, looking up to the older country, purplish eyes blinking with question. Prussia thought about it again.

"Hmm… sure. I mean, if you work at it. Maybe even better." He said, grinning at the kid with his bright red eyes. "But I already think you're a little more grown up." He explained.

"Really?"

"You wanna hear a secret?" Prussia asked, looking at the boy with a mischievous smile.

"What?"

"Your brother may be powerful, but I had to yell at him for cooking with his bayonet."

Canada's eyes widened in disbelief, a smile hinting in his expression. "Really?

"Ja- but we'll keep that our little secret to use against him later." **  
**


	9. Promise

"Never do anything like that again!" Prussia cringed as his leader yelled at him. He loved the man with all of his heart- he was practically a father after all- but the lectures could scare him quite a bit.

"I said I was sorry- I had to!"

"Fighting Russia without any backup is ridiculous! I understand your need to fight for your people, to an extent, but I do not wish to find you dead in an ally, or, or beat half to death on the battlefield!" Frederick the Great sat down in his seat behind his desk, and placed his face in his hands, breathing a sigh of exasperation.

"You're a powerful man, and I know you can hold your own. I do not doubt any of your abilities. But I do worry when I haven't a clue where you are or where could be." He said, much more gently to the man across the room from him. He couldn't help but notice that the albino looked like a kicked puppy, awaiting further punishment.

"I am sorry, but he would have killed the General. I couldn't let that happen." The Prussian looked up to his leader, bright eyes shining with respect, but also valor of a man that believed in what he said.

"You have to promise me that you won't do that again."

"I cannot make a promise I cannot keep."

Frederick nodded, resting his head on his knuckles. "So… did you beat him?" He asked, smiling like a father figure who was proud of his son for accomplishing something quite out of the ordinary.

"Like a batter sir." Prussia smiled. 


	10. Innocence

"Big Brother! I picked some flowers from the field!" Lichtenstein said cheerfully, coming into the house with the said bouquet. Switzerland looked down from where he stood on a stool, hanging a painting that he had recently acquired from the Italy brother's (as penance for trespassing previously).

"Really? There is a vase in the cupboard under the sink." He called back down.

"Thank you brother!" She said happily, going into the kitchen. Fetching the vase, she filled it carefully with water, and then placed the flowers into the glass. Picking it up, she carried it over to the kitchen table and placed it in the center. "Do you need any help?" She asked, looking up to the Swiss.

"No- I am just… about… finished." He said with finality. Climbing down to the floor, he hopped off of the step ladder with a little thump. "How was your day?"

"Good! I was able to clear up that whole issue about taxes and then I went to the fields. Uhmm… I saw Latvia today too… Other than that… nothing really happened." She said with a smile. Switzerland nodded. "How about you?"

"Ah, not much. The Italy brothers gave us this painting for free… and it's actually quite nice." He said, looking up at it. "I spoke with a few of the others, we have a meeting coming up in a week, so clear the schedule I guess. It's in Germany… And England will be visiting this weekend." He added as an afterthought. "I have to go pick up the dry-cleaning this evening after dinner as well."

"I could do that. You need your rest for the ball that your boss is throwing tomorrow." Lichtenstein said with a smile. "My dress is in there too, so I can do it."

"Are you sure? It'll be dark by then-"

"Brother, I can handle it." The younger nation said with a chuckle. **  
**


	11. Moonlight

Southern Italy muses with his paints, that create a vast expanse of night sky across the canvas. Stars twinkle from their two dimensional world and brighten the darkness of a black expanse of universe. All captured beautifully in one, small, four by five foot canvas.

Black and blue mix together on his forearms and face, where it splatters and slips onto his skin. White and faint green colour him and the canvas as well, creating images of trees and water, life in the darkness.

He thinks of everything and nothing as he gives the world small highlights, that come from a moon, not yet captured on the world of his creation. Light blue is added along with silvery grey and yellow. White highlights are added to an otherwise black abyss, that is transformed to a lake.

Funny, just the smallest light, just the smallest adjustment in angle creates a whole new spectrum. He could have left it all black, harsh, like everyone sees him on the outside. But he added a borrowed light from the sun and made the world more beautiful and sparkling.

He felt like the moon a lot sometimes. 


	12. Whisper

"Hey, Gil?" Hungary whispered, turning her head towards her friend, who was lying next to her, star gazing.

"Hmm?" he asked, turning his bright red eyes to her. His armour, hair and skin glowed in the moonlight and made him look even paler than usual. By this time, both Hungary and Prussia looked to be about nineteen or twenty years of age. Hungary couldn't help but think that he had filled out quite nicely. Longer face and strong jaw line. She of course, knew that she had filled in as well- if their encounter in the forest after her fight with Ottoman Empire had said anything about it.

"What do you think of your new boss? This… Frederick fellow."

Prussia smiled, looking back up to the sky. "I've known him since he was born. With everything he's been through… I think he'll be great. He had plenty of opportunities to be like his vater. But he's not."

"Really? That's nice." Hungary said, looking back again to the stars. "Sounds fun"

"He's awesome. I don't think I've ever gone so long without being beat by a cane." 


	13. Echo

"What so proudly we hail!

At the twilights last gleaming!

Whose broad stripes and bright stars-!"

"What was that America? It was real pretty!" Said American jumped about three feet in the air, turning to see northern Italy standing in the doorway of the conference room.

"Jeez dude! Yer as quiet as a mouse!"

"Sorry." Italy laughed. "But what were you singing? It was really pretty!" He said, sitting down in his designated seat at the meeting table.

"Uh- it's just my anthem." He said awkwardly

"I didn't know you could sing." Italy said, grinning from ear to ear. "You're kind of like my brother, he can sing really well too. He just doesn't really let anyone know. Only don't tell him I told you!"

"Really? I never would have guessed." America said with his hundred dollar smile.

"Our Anthems a bit faster than yours- but I still like it. Yours holds a lot of stories in it! I mean- well everyone's do, don't they?" Italy went on, resting his head in his hand. "Like… an echo through the ages, y'know?"

America smiled. "Yeah- something like that." 


	14. Jealousy

Prussia was a lot of things. Conceited? Maybe. Cheerful? Definitely. Tolerable, sometimes. But Jealous? Never.

Prussia lounged in the shade of an enormous umbrella, planted strategically on the beaches of Spain. The sun was unable to break the shade and hit his delicate skin with its UV rays, and he was sprayed down with sun block just in case. Next to him was Spain himself, tanning easily in the glory of his sun right outside the shade, while France sat on his other side, in the shade, but with no need for sun block.

"Is something the matter, mon ami? You have been quite silent for at least thirty seconds." France asked, fanning himself with a magazine. (Cooking magazine no less.)

"Si, are you okay amigo?" Spain added, sitting up on his forearms to see the albino better.

"Ja- I'm fine. Just thinking." Prussia said, looking at his friends with his red eyes. Of course, they couldn't see it past the heavily tinted sunglasses he wore.

"About what? Whenever you think too much you get gloomy." Spain whined, turning over and grabbing his friend's arm in a friendly hug. "Don't get gloomy!"

"I'm not gloomy! I'm too awesome for gloomy!" Prussia snorted, kneading the sand with his toes and heels. "I just kind of wish I could tan like you. That's all."

Silence for a moment, then a laugh came from Francis.

"And take away the beauty of your almost snow white skin? It is flawless! Why do you wish to change that?!"

"Besides, amigo. White hair would look really funny with a tan." Spain pointed out helpfully. "I mean… imagine Francis with white hair."

"I would look just as magnifique. Just on a different level." Francis huffed. "But oui! Imagine Toni with your beautiful shade of locks! A terrible tragedy!" France feigned shock with a hand over his forehead

Yes, Prussia was never jealous. 

**(Guys, I relate to Prussia on a personal level here. XD Being Albino is hard)**


	15. Passion

"Italy? May I ask you a question?" Holy Roman Empire asked, fidgeting with his hands. Of course, he and Italy were no longer children and looked to be twelve or thirteen years old. Holy Rome had gotten quite tall for his age and slightly lanky. Just as he had, Italy had as well. But with a more slender build and longer legs.

He had only returned from battle for a few days, so he had decided to ask about something he had never had the courage to ask before.

"Hmm? What is it Holy Rome?" She asked, shifting her hands on the handle of the water bucket she was carrying. Instantly feeling guilty for making her do such work, Holy Rome took it and carried it in her stead, or at least tried, but awkwardly stumbled and managed to get some grass in it.

"Oh Poo. I'll get some new water." He said, walking away towards the well. Italy followed close behind.

"So what was it you wanted to ask me?" She asked, patting down her apron, smiling at the awkwardness of the fellow nation.

"Ah- I was going to ask about your art actually. How- how do you have the patience to capture such things with a brush?" he blurted, a little too quickly, so that Italy had to process what he was saying more.

"Well… I suppose it's my passion." She said, thinking (quite adorably with her pointer finger on her chin, right under her lip and brown eyes looking up to the left as if recollecting something from her mind.)

"Passion?"

"Si! It's sort of like… you have to really want what you're doing or acting on, like painting. You can't just throw together art when you don't want it bad enough."

"Passion…" Holy Rome thought aloud, repeating the word like a mantra. 


	16. Lies

"N-no…" The words escaped the teenager's mouth like a whisper. It was impossible… absolutely unfathomable to him. "No! You're lying!"

"No Italia… I'm not. Please, calm down…" Hungary pleaded, eyes puffy and red from crying.

"LIAR! Sei un bugiardo!" He screeched, gripping the hem of his linen shirt with his shaking hands. "Lui non è morto! He is not dead!" Tears slipped down his handsome relentlessly. "Sei un bugiardo! Holy Roman Empire promised! He promised to come back!"

"Italia!" A more stern voice said. Both looked up to see Austria, his eyes abnormally bloodshot and tired. "You need to accept it. I'm sorry, but Holy Roman Empire is dead. He was killed in battle with France." He said quite plainly, voice cracking slightly as he spoke. "Prussia was there… he delivered the news himself." His voice grew quieter with each word.

"Where is he?" Italy asked. Both adults looked at each other with confusion. "Where is Mr. Prussia. I want to talk to him!" Italia said with a mixture of anger and sadness.

"He's in the piano room." Austria said. "But don't be angry at him. He did all he could."

"I know, but he was Holy Rome's brother, right? I want to speak with him." With that, Italy left the room, not glancing back at Hungary, who broke down into tears into Austria's shoulder.

As soon as he entered the room, he found Prussia. He was sitting at the Piano, gently brushing over the keys, but not playing a single note. He looked up when Italy came in and met his eyes evenly with his own.

"Italien…" He said quietly, but whatever he was going to say next was cut off as the teenager crashed into him, wrapping his arms around the albino's neck. Prussia was frozen for a moment as Italy cried into his shirt. Then he wrapped his arms around the smaller boy.

"I'm sorry Italien… I'm so sorry…" He said quietly, tears slipping from his red pools. **  
**

**(But did I get the italian right)**


	17. Regret

"Grossvater!" A small cry came from the hallway that just preceded the room Germania was in. The blonde turned his head and was met with the albino form of his grandson, Teutonic empire. He was a powerful boy, but still small, coming to a new sort of power with every day of conquest that passed.

But that aside, the boy had tears streaming down his small cheeks and dripped onto his white tunic. Germania quickly swooped down to his knees and caught the child- for he was a child- in his arms. The smaller boy wrapped his arms around his neck.

"What is wrong Gilbert?" He asked, not bothering to use his grandson's nation name. It was too long to call him in small conversation.

"We went hunting in the woods! And there was a poor little bird, she had a worm in her mouth… and one of the men shot it! I think it was going to feed its babies!" he bawled… Germania smiled at the child's purity of heart. He may have seen battle, but he did not believe in bloodshed without cause, and he hoped that purity remained.

"Where was this?" He asked gently, looking into the blood red eyes of the boy. He was so young. No older than maybe thirty years along, and at the physical and mental age of about four or five.

"Just inside the forest! I think it was a duck, or something like that!" he said, simply crying his eyes out. Germania nodded and let the boy go from his tight embrace.

"Let's go find the place, maybe we can find the nest." He said, trying to cheer the boy. He had plenty of work he should have been doing, but time off was rare and he would seize this chance to spend time with his poor grandson.

It was almost three hours before they had found it. The nest was resting snugly between the branch and trunk of a tall tree that Teuton had easily scaled. Coming down, the boy gently put the nest on the ground and crouched on his tiny legs to look at it.

"I don't… are they sleeping?" He asked, looking up at his grandfather with teary eyes. Germania grimaced, looking at the small, yellow balls of feathers that sat perfectly still in the nest. Shaking his head, he looked to his grandson.

"I'm afraid that the poor babies passed away, Gilbert." Germania said sadly. "Their Mutter wasn't there to keep them warm."

Teutonic Empire's face made Germania's heart break a bit with how his mouth turned to a frown and his eyes watered over with tears. He hugged his grandfather's arm and cried, begging the man to fix them. Shaking his head, Germania found himself deciding that this was a good time to give his grandson a life lesson of sorts.

"Do you see, how killing these bird's Mutter, affected more than just her?" The little boy nodded. "This is something you must keep in mind when you kill, Gilbert. In war, there is much death and bloodshed. But sometimes it's best to not just kill those on the opposing side. You must always think about how it will affect others, and your people. Do you understand?"

"Yes Grossvatter. I understand." The little boy sniffled.


	18. Trust

"Don't even flinch. I will be up there in a jiff!" England shouted up to the small colony, who shook like a leaf- ironically- from the branch he clung to.

"I don't want to fall!" Little America cried, clinging even tighter to the branch. How he had even ended up there in the first place was questionable.

"I won't let you fall. Just… trust me. Alright?" America just nodded and held fast to the branch. Getting into the right position from under the boy, England looked up.

"Now I need you to jump America."

"No! I'll fall!"

"Trust me." England said, putting every ounce of caring he had into his eyes and voice as he held out his arms. America gulped.

And jumped. 


	19. Revenge

Germany sighed as he stared out the window. His brow was scrunched in frustration.

Stealing all of his baking supplies… he wanted to make cookies that night! But Austria, in all his passive-aggressiveness had to use every bit of baking supply in his house! What was he to do? He had a long day of training with Italy and Japan, and he wanted cookies with a passion now. Baking always calmed him down… and now…!

How could he get him back? That was the real question. Sure he was here against his will, but Germany didn't care. He didn't want him there anyway. So he would most certainly make him pay.

Sitting at his desk, he found the best plan forming that he had made since the war started. He pulled the phone closer as he dialed. It rang only two or three times before the other end picked up.

_"__Hallo? This is the awesome Prussia Speaking!" _His brother's voice said through the ear piece. Germany nodded to himself.

"Ja, Hallo Bruder."

_"__West! How can the awesome me help you on this awesome day?"_

Ludwig smiled to himself. "I was wondering if you would like to come visit for a while… we haven't spoken in person for so long…"


	20. Beach

"Come on, come on, come on!" Sealand pulled Sweden along behind him. "We're almost there!"

"I know Peter." Sweden said with a tiny smile. "We've got some time."

"But daaaad… we've got to make a sand-castle before Uncle Denmark comes! I told him we'd have it done before he got here!"

"Oh? And why is that, Peter?" Finland, who was following close behind asked.

"In case he has to hide from the Mermaids!"

"And why would he have to do that?" Sweden asked curiously.

"He says it's because he's too devilishly handsome and will make them all die horrible deaths for falling in love with him!"

And Sweden and Finland laughed.


	21. Midnight

"Hey France!" the young, childish voice of America called out to the older nation. France turned around at the call and smiled.

"Ah! There you are. I thought I would be going in to see the movie alone!"

"Aww, you know I would never do that!" He grinned, catching up to his brother. "Is Canadia comin'?"

"He said he was." France nodded. "And try to use human names in this setting, I don't want any strange looks."

"Yeah, okay… Francis." America nodded, tucking his hands into his tuxedo pockets. "I still don't understand why we havta dress up so nice for a movie premier." He shrugged.

"Everyone involved will be there, won't they? Don't want to look so unfashionable. Besides, I think you should dress like that more, mon ami!" France swooned dramatically. "You look so grown up!"

"Aw, thanks." America laughed, playfully hitting the man's shoulder. He looked up at the sign on the billboard that read "LES MISERABLES PREMIER". "Shall we go in?" he asked. Francis nodded. "Oui! Let's go!"


	22. Confessions

Italy wrung his hands together, biting his delicate lip. He glanced up at Germany, who was working in the kitchen- probably something delicious- and bit his lip even more. How could he say it? Did he just, tell him? Or break it to him more slowly so that it was less awkward? Would he hate him after this? Would he leave him?

Italy decided to chance it. He would just tell him! He would just say it! "Germany- I!"

"Oh, Italien, you're here. Could you grab the whisk from the drawer?" The blonde asked, looking at his friend with a smile. Italy grinned his usual smile and nodded.

"Sure thing Germany!" He grabbed the utensil and handed it to his friend who went to mixing whatever he was making quickly.

"Were you going to tell me something?" Germany asked, looking at the smaller nation, who gulped and nodded. Germany waited patiently, whisking his food concoction. "Well?"

"Germany… I… uh…"

"Italy?"

"I accidentally ate your last sausage! I mixed it up with my sausage because I was half asleep and I ate it!"

"WHAT!?"


	23. Crush

"Hey Bruder?" Ludwig asked at dinner one night. Prussia looked up from his dish of potatoes to look at the little nation.

"Ja?"

"I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Do you like Miss Hungary?" He asked innocently.

Prussia inhaled suddenly and found himself trying to dislodge a cube of potato from his esophagus. Little Ludwig panicked and ran to him, accidentally head-butting him in the process. The piece of food flew from Prussia's mouth and onto the other side of the room's wall. Ludwig and Gilbert stared at it for a moment before the elder spoke.

"We never speak of this to anyone."


	24. Chocolate

"You can't be serious, America." Germany said, staring at the chocolate that the nation was holding out to him.

It was a rather awkward. Germany wasn't particularly familiar with American customs, but he knew very well what Valentine's Day was, and what chocolate implied. And after last year's fiasco with Italy… he felt even more awkward. At least they had cleared it up.

"Well yeah dude! I'm giving chocolate to all of my friends!" Alfred said with a wide grin. Germany felt a little more reassured. Just friends. Danke Gott. "I mean, I'm giving smaller ones to my not as close friends, but I think you're a close friend! So I got you a bigger one! But no roses… that's France's thing." Germany only thanked God for that again.

"How many chocolates are you giving out? Big and small?" Germany asked, looking at him with a little curiosity. How many friends did America have?

"Uh, Two hundred and twenty seven…I think." America said with a grin. "Maybe a few more" Germany stared at him with a frown and slightly wide eyes, he did the math in his head and quickly figured out that the number was slightly higher than if he had counted every single one of the sovereign states in the world.

"How… how did you add up that many friends? That's more than every sovereign state in the world."

"Of course! The whole world is my friend! And...Well, I'm giving one to all of the micro fellas! Of course Peter, he's sort of my brother… And Wy, and Seborga and them. Uh- I decided to drop off one for Prussia's friend. Frederick the Great, and France's old friend, Joan of Arc to name a couple… Plus a few extra, just in case."

Germany felt a sudden surge of admiration for the young nation. And gratitude. His kindness was without bound and his love for the world was insatiable. It was truly heartwarming, which was difficult for Germany to truly feel anymore.

"Danke, America." He said with a rare smile. The boy could be a dunderhead, and yes, he was young. But he wasn't stupid, or rash or any of the things that some of the countries said he was. He was kind and thought of others very much more than people said he did. Just like every other country, he was more than what people thought. It was almost like a life lesson from a box of chocolates for Germany and he wished…

Well…

If only everyone could see it.


	25. Alone

It was an incredibly rainy day in Denmark. It was storming and thundering outside as the great booms of Thor's hammer beat down on the little place.

Denmark laughed from where he folded socks and watched a coconut fall from the tree on the television screen and land right on the characters head. He knew very well that in real life, that could very well kill a person. But it wasn't real, and it didn't. So it didn't matter it was funny.

He suddenly heard a knock on his door. Frowning, he hit pause on the DVR remote and stood from his leather couch (courtesy of Sweden on his birthday) and went to his front door. He wondered who on earth could be visiting him in the middle of September, but there was nothing coming up he didn't think. And if there was he wasn't in any way involved.

He got to the door, twisted the old, iron handle and peeked out. "Hello?"

"Hej." Iceland said, looking down at the ground with a small blush.

"Oh! Hej Icey! Come on in! It's cold out here for this time of year…" Denmark stepped aside and let his little brother in. Iceland nodded and stepped inside and wiped his feet on the rug so not to let the rainwater in. Denmark helped him take off his brown coat and hang it on the little coatrack that sat in the corner of the entryway. Then led his brother to the sitting room to finally rest his feet.

"So what's up Ice? Something going on?" He asked, making sure he hadn't forgotten some sort of holiday.

"No, I just… wanted… to visit." Iceland seemed to struggle to get that out. Denmark raised an eyebrow and his smile faltered a bit.

"Okay, and you can tell me what's really going on there Bro." He said with a smile, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "I can tell there's something wrong."

Iceland was quiet for a moment. There was no way he was going to admit that he came to Denmark because he thought of him as a reliable big brother. Sure he had his faults, but so did everyone else. That's why he didn't trust them.

"I- I was just… I didn't really want anything… I just wanted… someone to talk to." Iceland said. Denmark smiled. So Icey was lonely.

"That's not a problem! Kind of a long trip just to talk to me though." Denmark said with a grin. "How about we make some dinner and talk over that? Like old times?" He said, standing. Iceland nodded, keeping his stoic façade going. He would never tell Denmark, but that was exactly why he came. "And you can stay overnight. I think the weathers supposed to get worse as the day goes! So it'd be best to stay over. We can make whatever you like, that'll work."

Denmark talked Iceland's ear off as they cooked a simple meal. Once it was prepared, they sat at the Dane's tiny table. He didn't often have company, so his table was only big enough for three. And his cat.

"It gets lonely without you guys here anymore." Denmark said, looking off into space as they ate. "You know, I used to have you little guys running around and making messes, keeping me busy. But now it's like there's nothing to do. I invite Germany over every once in a while, and it's nice to talk, but you know how he is. America visits randomly like… twice a year. But he's so busy with his economics and all." Denmark shrugged. "It's like no one has time for little old me anymore. So I really appreciate you coming on over. Even if it's just to talk." He said, grinning at Iceland.

Iceland blushed faintly. "It's… it's nothing really. I just wanted to talk to you… like I said."


	26. Rain

"Oh… it's getting stormy out." England sighed, looking up at the darkening sky. "It's a shame. I thought it would be sunny at least until noon today."

"That's okay!" America, who was diligently carrying his older brother's groceries, said cheerfully. "We can watch a movie or somethin' until Mattie comes, and go walking some other time!"

"You're chipper as usual." England smiled (Not that America could see it)

"We haven't had a family get-together in ages! I'm cooking steak tonight, and Matt said he'd make pancakes for breakfast! Fish and chips for lunch! Whatever Francis decides to cook for dinner tomorrow!"

"You just want to eat, it sounds like." England mused.

"Well that- but it's just nice to finally see and talk to each other outside of work- ya know?" America said, looking up at the sky. "Do storms still… make you kind of nostalgic?"

England stopped for a moment, thinking about it. "Well… not really. If it did, I would be rather downtrodden all of the time, wouldn't I?"

"Haha- yeah. It never stops raining in London!" America sang, very off key, and very loudly. It drew the attention of a few passerby's, who either smiled or scoffed at his enthusiasm. "And the grass is always green!"

"Shh!" England both scoffed and laughed, hitting his brother with his elbow, only making him laugh even harder. "You're being ridiculous!"

"And old Artie is being Mean!- OOF!"

**I'm back again and with fluffies ou o Do review and tell me how I'm doing! **


	27. Letters

**Dear Artie, **

**It's been a long time since I've heard from you! I hope you're doing good, If not, let me know!**

**So how is life? Mine's dull and boring as usual. And My boss is just making messes everywhere really… *sigh*. Denmark came to visit recently, and that was fun, and I see Canada every once in a while, but other than that, I've been pretty lonely.**

**How's old France treating ya? Nothing's changed I'm guessing, but it's worth asking. Just thought I'd say hi and let ya know the hero's doing okay! **

**Alfred F. Jones**

_Dear Alfred,_

_You know very well that my name is "Arthur" not "Artie"._

_I am doing well, and yes. I suppose it has been a while. It's quite calm here, not too much going on really. I have seen that you've been busy on your end, so I'm __relieved __glad to hear that you are doing well. And tell Denmark that I said hello next time you see him._

_France is a Fop, as usual. So yes, I suppose you could say nothing has changed. Hello back and shut up brat._

_Arthur Kirkland_

**Dear Artie,**

**Aw! Come on! Artie's a good name for you! It's funny, I got your letter just as Denmark came back for a meeting! How funny is that? He says Hi back. I didn't know you two were friends! We should all get together some time.**

**It's good to know how much you care. ****J****Hope nothing too crazy starts up over there. France has been kind of sour towards me lately, I don't know really why. But whatever. Canada is coming in about ten minutes, so I gotta go!**

**Alfred F. Jones**

_Dear Alfred, _

_Did you really just put a smiley face in a letter? Good grief. And stop calling me that._

_Denmark and I aren't "friends" per se… we're more like friendly rivals. The whole Pirate versus Vikings thing is important after all. Pirates win, by the way._

_How long will Canada be staying with you? Tell him I said Hello as well, and that he needs to stay warm in this horrible winter! It was freezing when I last saw!_

_Arthur Kirkland_

**Dear Artie, **

**Canada says hello and "don't worry, it's only negative 34 degrees Celsius. It's not bad"**

**Really, you're such a dad.**

**He's staying with me for about four weeks. Hey! You should come and visit! Get away from France and Vikings and Europe for a while!**

**Alfred F. Jones**

Two tall blonds stood at the gate of a flight from london in New York. A sign that read "Artie! 7 O" Was held between them as they searched through the crowd of unloading passengers. But they knew they found him when-

"That's not my name!"


	28. Cold

Matthew very rarely got cold. He was one of those people that could walk out in twelve degree weather and be fine in just a t-shirt and jeans. He never cared much for big coats or warm scarves, and the only times he did wear them was when he had to be in uniform, and even then, it wasn't as stuffy as the others were.

But now he was freezing. He wondered briefly why Russia would have called him over to such a barren and cold place. Even the giant nation wouldn't feel warm here, despite his long going history of cold weather. Frowning, he pulled his scarf closer to his face to try and block some of the swirling snow from pelting him.

Matthew sighed and tugged his hat on further and took a deep breath. Opening his eyes from beneath his goggles, he looked to see that Ivan was still walking by him, tugging his own scarf over his nose and mouth and rubbing his hands together.

"It is rather cold, da?" He asked, looking at his friend, violet eyes glittering. Matthew nodded, rubbing his bare hands for friction. Curse that he had forgotten his gloves on a visit to _Russia_ of all places.

"Yeah." He nodded. "It's been a rather harsh winter, eh?"

"Da- Oh Matvey! You haven't any gloves!" Russia said with sudden worry, looking at the bright red fingertips of his fellow nation. "Your hands look like your flag."

"Oh it's okay—" Matthew stuck his hands in his pockets to try and shield them from the cold, but at this point it was basically useless.

"Here!" Ivan stripped off one of his own gloves and turned to Matthew, putting a pause to their walking and slipping the glove onto the mans right hand, keeping on his own left one.

"Oh- but now your hand will get cold!"

"Nonsense!" Ivan snatched Matthew's hand out of his pocket and locked their hands together. "See! We can share the warm because we are friends!"

Matthew half wanted to smile, half wanted to laugh his head off.

It was nice to have friends. Warm, even.


	29. Dark

Hungary woke with a gasp, her eyes wide and staring out at the nothingness that was the dark. She held her hand to her chest as if she were trying to hold in her frantically beating heart and took deep breaths to try and calm herself down.

The wars… she had always known that some countries were haunted relentlessly by some wars that they had been through, but she had never really had that issue. But now… The Great War had taken a toll on everyone… especially…

"Hey- you okay in there? Or is my awesomeness needed?" That obnoxious, but wonderfully familiar voice came in through the door. Hungary smiled and sat up completely, looking to the door.

"You can come in if you must." She said with exaggerated irritation. The door creaked open and the albino figure of Prussia stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

"Well if you insist." He grinned, sitting at the end of the small bed. "Are you okay? You were mumbling again."

"It's not much- just that _dream _again." She sighed. "How did you cope with it?" Prussia thought for a moment, looking out the window and out at the moon that shone through the panes. His eyes- so usually sharp and calculating despite his mischievous nature- softened and he sighed.

"I didn't quite _cope _really- I sort of just let it pass. Sometimes I wrote stuff down so that it's not bothering me as much anymore, but usually that doesn't help much anymore."

"Well I knew you did _that. _If the giant library filled with your atrocious handwriting has anything to say about it."

"You read my diary?" Hungary just shrugged. Prussia frowned, but ignored it and continued. "Well then! You speak lies! My handwriting was not atrocious! It screamed awesomeness!"

"Yeah, yeah… I suppose it's alright." She fought the smile that accompanied the thought. His handwriting had been heavily influenced by the churches he had scripted for, and was actually very pretty.

"I guess that's how I coped… but usually I tried to talk to someone. France and Spain are awesome listeners you know… maybe you should talk to Roddy?"

"He wouldn't understand what it's like over there…"

"That's true. But he would listen."

Hungary looked down at her hands in her lap. "Would you listen?"

Prussia was silent. She felt tears building in her green pools. Hungary looked up from where she had been staring, and saw that nothing was there. Just darkness. The tears spilled.

"I wish you could." She whispered.


	30. Flowers

"When did you start wearing a flower in your hair?" Austria asked, looking at Hungary with interest. He didn't remember that being a part of her everyday attire before… in fact he was quite sure that he had never seen it up until today or the day before.

"Hmm?" She looked up from where she was sweeping. "I've always worn flowers… well… at least after- oh. Nevermind. I've always worn flowers." She smiled, glancing out the window for a split second- as if lost in a memory- and then continued her chores. Austria stared for a moment, then shrugged and went back to work.

Hungary waited until he was gone to stop sweeping and put her hands on her hips.

"Well- he's as clueless as ever." Prussia said from up in the tree, where he was lounging on a thick branch, leg dangling down and his uniform torn to smithereens.

"You're lucky I'm nice." Hungary huffed, scowling at him. "Who got you this time?"

"That crazy Russia guy. He's been on my case lately… wants Poland or something."

"Did you give it to him?"

"Heck no! That would be totally un-awesome of me!"

"To who?"

"Poland! Who wants to be part of that crazy guys land?" Prussia said, hopping down from the tree, ignoring the ache in his bones from his last fight. "Anyway- why did you start wearing a flower? I noticed of course though, unlike the unawesome Baby Man-Girl- Boy."

"That is none of your business." Hungary huffed. She reached into her pocket and threw the bandages at the albino. "Now take these and get out of here, or I'll scream. Heaven knows why you always come by here."

"Alright, alright! I'm going!" Prussia said with a sigh. He turned on his heel and went to leave, but paused. "And thanks. I just don't want Luddy to see me like this."

"Just go." Hungary said, back turned to him. She didn't want him to see her blush… after all…

It was his fault she wore flowers after the fight with Turkey!


	31. Snow

"Wow… look at all the snow!" Little America said, pointing towards the vast expanse of white that covered the fields. "It's like Magic!"

Finland smiled, having decided to visit the child before his Christmas run. "Indeed! Snow is what the world makes when it becomes winter!" Finland said cheerfully, patting the child's blonde hair. "You can even make snowmen out of it!"

"Really?!" America asked, eyes sparkling with wonder. "Wow! Can we make one?" He begged, tugging on Finland's red suit.

"But of course! We have to hurry though, or nobody will get their gifts for Christmas on time!"

The little boy helped the older nation roll the snow into balls, and then stack them on top of each other. The little boy searched out pebbles and twigs for the face and arms, and then they put a little hat on it that Finland provided from his sled.

"There we are!" Finland said with a grin. "A perfect snowman!" He said, but then thought for a moment. "You know- I'm pretty sure Mr. Denmark and Mr. Norway are much better at it than me."

"No way?! But yours is so cool!" America said with those sparkling eyes again.

"Haha! Well you'll have to see someday!" Finland said, climbing into his sled. "Have a merry Christmas America! And a wonderful new year!"

"I will Mr. Finland!" America laughed, watching the Nation fly off in his reindeer-drawn sleigh.

It usually slowed him down a little on his round about the world. But How could Finland not stop to give the boy the gift he wanted every year?

Someone to play with.

**THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME THIS CHAPTER CRAPPED OUT? I'M SO SORRY I FIX IT NOW**


	32. Addiction

"Hey Denmark!" A voice called from somewhere behind the said country. The blonde turned around to see America running down the street while waving a stack of papers. Denmark reached instinctively to his bag and realized that all of his work was gone.

Oops.

"Oh, thanks!" He said, walking back to meet the younger nation halfway. He accepted the papers and slipped them into his bag. "I didn't even notice I left them. How did you know they were mine?"

"It's in Danish." America grinned, scratching the back of his head. "I kinda figured you were the only one there that spoke that… And it said 'Norge is being mean to me' so I assumed…"

"You can read Danish?"

"Yeah! I mean- well I kind of get bored and so…?"

"So you learned Danish?" Denmark asked, thoroughly impressed.

"Yeah well… My new boss doesn't let me do much anymore… so I do what I can when I'm bored. Mostly just sitting in on university classes… I just can't help it. It's kinda like a… an addiction I guess?"

"I see… so you're… addicted to learning?"

"Haha, I guess?"

"What else have you learned?"

"Only a couple…" Denmark looked at him. "Oh, well I had to learn French cuz of France and Canada, they're always trying to make me feel stupid for not knowing what they talk about… And Latin for the same reason with Britain and his brothers. Uhh…I learned Finnish and Dutch when Finland and Netherlands found me as a kid…and then I learned German because Prussia helped me out…. Eh… and I learned Spanish obviously… Lots of people here speak Spanish now. And the cold war happened and I learned Russian so that Russia would stop sending me those weird threats… Um- Chinese because of reasons…"

"Woah there- how bout a list of languages you don't know? It'd probably be shorter!" Denmark laughed, slapping America on the back. "Let's get a drink!" America laughed.

"Selvfølgelig!" He cheered, throwing his arm over Denmark's shoulders in agreement.

**I have a thing for bookworm studiously bored America hnng**


	33. Temptation

"No… you can't do it. Leave it alone Alfred. You just have to leave it alone." He walked with his head high, trying his best to not make eye contact. He held firm, making sure he was unblinking.

He wanted it. He wanted to so bad…

No. He couldn't. He couldn't do it… he had told himself, not this time. And as much as he knew he wanted to, he wasn't allowed. His boss told him. Not this time. He had done enough he said, too much.

He could just take a peek. He could. Just a little peek inside to see who was doing it. Yes… he would just take a peek, maybe speak with one of the M.P.'s inside… he was in uniform today, he would just adjust his pocket under his jacket so that the name ALFRED F JONES didn't show.

Yes- he took a sharp turn, cutting through an alley behind a small diner. Shifting his weight he made sure his leather bomber was covering the jacket pocket. He was about to pull his hat out from his pocket when he heard the sounds of a scuffle coming from a bit down the way.

He rushed forward, not paying any attention when his jacket stopped covering his name. He spotted the source of the noise, and was offended to see a larger man- who was of the same, or perhaps even of larger stature than he- beating the stuffing out of a smaller civilian. He leapt forward and shoved the man aside, pushing him back away from the tiny fellow.

"What do you think you're doing?" Alfred said, looking back at the man.

"I could ask you the same thing." The man said, straightening up and turning around to face him. He froze when he saw his uniform. "Soldier."

"I suggest you head on out like a good boy." Alfred stared sternly, crossing his arms and glaring at the bigger man. He seemed to hesitate a bit before Alfred glared even more harshly. "Get!"

He turned tail then, and Alfred nodded in satisfaction. Then he turned to the smaller kid- as it seemed he was about seventeen or eighteen- who was wiping blood from his mouth and nose. "Are you alright?" He asked, holding out his hand to him. The teenager looked at him for a split second and then took the hand and let his tiny frame be pulled up.

"I've been better…" he said with a chuckle. "Thank you… you didn't need to do that." The civilian seemed to regard his uniform for the first time. "Mr. Jones."

"Just Alfred, please. It wasn't a problem…mr?" Alfred shook the smaller man's hand in a warm gesture. Alfred couldn't help but be amazed how this boy had been trying to fight the other- when his hand was clearly enveloped by his own gloved one.

"Rogers. Steve Rogers."

Alfred smiled, taking in the relatively generic name. He didn't know why, but he felt that it would be a name he would hear again.

"Well Mr. Rogers, how about a drink?" He said. "On me of course."

"Ah- thanks, but I need to meet my friend soon. He's leaving for his own orders soon." Steve said quietly. Alfred's eyes sparkled with a smile again.

"Well I wish ya both good luck." He said, patting Steve's back. "I hope we meet again soon." He started to walk away. "And stay outta trouble!"

"Can't make any promises!" He called back with a chuckled. And with that, Steve Rogers watched as the mysterious Alfred F Jones walked away.

* * *

**I regret absolutely nothing**


	34. Autumn

If there was any time Japan liked visiting America, he would say it was when Autumn was about to begin. He didn't care much for the summer heat, and he wasn't too fond of the snow that plagued Alfred's home when he visited in the winter. (Neither was Alfred for that matter) Spring was alright, but it always made his eyes run from the amounts of pollen from cottonwood and weeds whenever it was first starting.

Fall was different though. The colours of the leaves and the slight tinge of crisp air was so purely… autumn that he couldn't help but think it was his favorite. The crunch of the leaves beneath his walking feet made him feel a childish joy that he never really let go of in all of his years.

Maybe that was why? It made him feel young again.


	35. Unity

"You know how when you have a bad dream? And then you wake up and you're so _relieved _that it isn't real?"

Lithuania looked at Prussia with a quirked brow, and sipped his tea thoughtfully.

"Well yes, I believe any of our kind would."

"I'm kind of wishing that would happen right now" The albino sighed, gingerly resting against the back of the couch. It wasn't a comfortable couch by any means, but it was there at least. Of course he had been required to build the darned thing…

"I see." The brunet said, setting the tea on the coffee table- also made by the albino- and standing. "I'd have to say I agree. But this is reality… and we need to stick together until that wall comes down." He sighed, picking up dishes and Prussia getting up to assist him. "It's hard… but you know- for us it's not such a long time maybe. It's kind of short- when you really put it into perspective."

"I guess. I just wish I knew how west was doing…"

"Well. One day you will be united again! And then we can all go home to be with our friends and family. Times will have changed, and people just as much. But that's what we do, you know? We change, and move on. Our unity with the land itself is what makes us able to live through everything, you know?"

Prussia pondered a moment, then grinned. "You know, for a small guy like you, you're pretty awesome."

The compliment made Lithuania stutter for a moment. "W- well thank you."


	36. Hurt

It has happened over and over and over again. The cycle of life for nations. They lived, and died, only to wake once more from their lifeless slumber. Whether it be illness, wounds, poisoning, starvation, or any other unspeakable thing, they refused to die. Or at least- stay dead.

They couldn't. Not as long as the land they walked was them. Not as long as their culture thrived strong in their people and certainly not as long as they breathed the air of the skies.

But no matter how or what number of times it happened, it hurt. Not just physically, although that pain was significant. It was also a mental hurt. It was something that cut through the mind and heart, making each death memorable and taxing. It aged them, perhaps. Mentally. Each time their soul was ripped out and returned back to its corpse, they came back older, wiser. A common sentiment between the immortals.

Denmark must be very wise, Norway thought, as he held the bleeding man's body against him. It was awkward, the Dane being as huge and muscular as he was. But in this snow, he looked so small. Blood stained his red Tunic, his fur cape, while his axe lay forgotten beside him, cracked down the center. A blade left embedded in his chest like a skewer ready to cook over the fire. His eyes only half open as he gasped in short, desperate breaths.

"Y-you'll be there—when I wa-ke up?" The Dane asked between laden gulps of air.

"I always am, aren't I?" Norway said quietly. Iceland was hidden away at home, too young to fight for his land yet- not quite ready to be out on his own. What would he tell him…

"G-good…"

"Sleep. When you wake I will be there. And you will be fine." Norway told him sternly, but softly. The blond in his arms attempted a weak smile, a pathetic face for a Viking. Never one that should be made by the mighty king of the north.

His eyes slipped closed and the gust in his lungs left in a wisp of steam to the cold air.

* * *

**Have some deadmark ;u; b**


End file.
